When was the last that I thought of you...I know not...but am I the one who goes alone on this path...and should I but care only a little for the souls that follow or those as march ahead?

Mode C is a way of life, perhaps my way of life: C for Cool, C for Cold, C for Chaos, C for Calvin. Ultimately, all of it boils down to the way you look at things. Are they not how they are but just how they appear?? No...and yes...Almost all the seriously critical fundamental concepts of life...aren't they just the bogies under Calvin's bed that he is afraid of? Miss Wormwood, Susie, Mom and Dad, and of course above all, Hobbes...aren't they all merely the means that he uses to attack these bogies?

Reflecting on 'living the Calvin way', I have started to believe that life and our reaction to it can only be explained by a number of Calvin and Hobbes strips combined together. The philosophy, as I like to call it, is to know that you are not alone. It is not just my perspective alone that is going to help me fight my bogies. I will be able to inch towards the Calvin way only when I perceive the other perspectives on my way.

All pictures and names concerning Calvin and Hobbes are copyright Bill Watterson

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Friday, July 09, 2004

Some more disillusionment

Life here at IIMK continues to amaze and disappoint me. Is there absolutely no difference between the first year of an undergraduate degree college and that of a professional institution like IIM giving an MBA degree? The immaturity is the same, the shouting is the same, the utter lack of mutual understanding and respect is the same, so how the hell can this be called a premier institution of higher learning? I know that what I am writing may be called frustration and initial blues of some first timer but a first timer, I certainly am not. I have been a part of the hostel life on two previous occassions and I could understand the way things were at both the places, that is in my higher secondary school and in the engineering college. However, I completely fail to understand that in a batch of supposedly high work experience graduates, how can people still stand on a podium and shout down on others as if they are holding some political position and gracing the others with their views/words?

I can fully understand and appreciate the kind of work they are doing to strike deals with dealers for utilities like mobile connection and laptops/desktops but are we really so immature as to gather in the middle of the night in the Open Air Theatre and get up on a podium and shout like kids? Do we really need to carry forward the meaning of enthusiasm in such a childish and negative manner? Is it fair for people who are graduates with a good two years of average work experience to fight over petty things like who is going to talk about what and take credit of what? Even in the college, by the time we were in our second year, all this was passe and a strict no-no. We knew that each one of us had a mind of his own and respected them for it. There was hardly a need to ask people if they are following what is being said (apropos yesterday) at the podium by the self-appointed leaders. I know it sounds like I am cribbing because I was not one of the people shouting from the top of the podium, that I was not one of the so called leaders but honestly speaking (whether anyone believes it or not), I don't care two hoots about these things now. Having come across so many people and so much at school and college and even at office, I don't think that I need to prove anything to myself (Even at the risk of sounding immodest, I think I have already got over the need of proving anything to others).

The surprising attitude boils down to another aspect, too and that is the sex divide that exists in this campus. It looks so funny when you see people divided across two different domains because of their sex alone. It was much better in the software field from where most of our batch has come. At least I did not feel guilty and self conscious while speaking to a girl. In fact when I finally met Divya (from the senior batch) today in the mess, I could hardly speak a word apart from introducing myself and turning aside (might even have appeared rude to her). I have never been an extrovert but at the same time, I am usually not at a loss for words either. It seems strange, therefore, when I am tongue tied and almost embarassed when there is any need (why is there a need to find a need???) to talk to the opposite sex in this campus. I can not say that it is something that is a personal problem. It is not something that has been an issue with me ever in my life. I have studied in co-education schools and college and have had quite a bit of interaction with girls. I know that there is always going to be that bunch of guys who will be at the beck and call and carry out the smallest whims of their friends. But isn't the situation supposed to be different in a place like IIM where girls as well as guys know what they are going to do with their lives and are mature enough to realize that demand supply laws do not essentially have to work in emotional life?

Today was another round of orientation programmes at IIMK. I have been put into Section A which is supposed to be the more comfortable one because Dr Suma Damodaran is not going to be teaching our section this terrm and that is supposedly a reason to celebrate. The library at IIMK seems to be well equipped (at least from what I could pick up from the post lunch, half-asleep session today) and I am looking forward to check out their fiction stack. As of now, some of the guys from our batch are planning to pick up our bikes (me inclusive) and go for an outing, perhaps a movie or to some natural bonanza nearby...so more cribbing later...

The first day at IIMK is finally over and life goes on. The strangest thing about this place is the absolute lack of bonhomie that is actually supposed to make up a college. I don't know if it is because the people out here are trying too hard to be professionals, to actually separate themselves from the run-of-the-mill college junta or if there is something deeper running within. I can understand the hesistation of the junior gang to actually gang up but the way the seniors have been behaving looks to be pretty senior-ish, if you know what I mean. I think I saw a lot of people I could identify with from my previous chats, blog comments, etc but I could not really talk to them. I could probably identify Prithesh, Divya, Ronald from the senior batch and Neeta, Malini, Vidhyut from my own batch and as I mentioned, if talking to seniors was a luxury, my own batchmates did not provide any thing free either. Perhaps we are all a little afraid of each other, all a little apprehensive about what the others will make of us and so we are all a little cautious to begin with. I know that a major part of the blame lies on me, too but the kind of atmosphere that's been created somehow prohibits much interaction.

The very first gathering of seniors that addressed us was actually for a committee called Konsult, which is a marketing consulting committee of IIMK. I know that it looks like a good idea to impress firmly over the minds of the future IIMK-ites that people here, especially the seniors, mean business but it doesn't really look like good sense to actually torture people on the very first day with some CNBC crap by Sumantra Ghoshal (God rest his soul in peace). If the seniors did really plan this, I must say that it was in poor taste. We could and should have had an informal gathering to start the proceedings and committees like Konsult could have possibly waited for a more opportune moment.

All the cribbing above apart, people here are in deed very very interesting. Inspite of the engineering college and Infosys experience and the DPS experience much before that and much more enriching in terms of content, I think that this is the most varied gathering of people that I have come across. There are freshers and there are people with 7-8 years of work experience. There are people in jeans and tees and there are the simpletons with formal shirts and trousers. There are the studious kinds with a dead-pan look on their face whenever there is talk of studies and there are lazzards (I invented the word) like me who give a sheepish grin to show their intentions on these occassions.

As I go on writing my blog, I don't know if I would be doing justice in assigning names to the characters that I meet and interact with during my two years at IIMK. It is good to be honest but I don't think that it is my right or anybody else's to publicly pass comments on some one. On the other hand, I think that this blog of mine has seen some of my private moments if it has been home to some well and truly public reviews of books and movies. I don't know how many of my batchmates actually read my blog but I do want to mention that even if you do and if at any stage of my two years here, you find something offensive in the blog, please do not take it to heart as it is just the ramblings of my mind and might as well turn out to naught before long.

Since I seem to have come out of this dilemma and seem to have finally decided, thanks to writing this entry, that I am going to name my characters and continue being honest to my blog, I hope that life does not become too difficult because of this.

Yesterday evening was spent shopping but not before I met Yogesh, one of my class mates from DPS. Ever since I had heard the name Yogesh Goswami in the roll call at the IIMK gate, I knew that it was going to be the same Yogesh. I won't say that he has been amongst my best friends but we certainly have spent a lot of time together and it was a pleasant co-incidence to see him here. Yogi joined Abhijit, Ravi and me as we took our two bikes (Ravi's ThunderBird and my poor Caliber) down to Kunnamangala to get some utilities. That done, we had another horrible meal in the mess (I can't really believe Ravi when he says that the food actually used to be good before we landed up), which was followed by the absolutely boring, stiff and sleep-inducing session of Konsult.

Finally, I am in IIMK. After a short and almost uneventful stay in Chennai, I had to pack my bags for another trip, this one much smaller than the marathon Buxar-Chennai one just a couple of days back. With the bag already spilling over and the suitcase packed as tight as any suitcase could possibly afford to, I had to bring my favorite Globus bag in use and the helmet was another addition.

I was planning to get my bike to Kozhikode sometime next month but the managerial skills of Ravi have already started showing effect (after all, he is attending the remedial classes). He convinced me to get the bike along and that's what I did. After a little shopping at Spencer's, I went ahead to Chennai Central and booked my bike in the train. The cost was not too much, considering that the porters there looted me for some two hundred bucks for supposedly packing and loading the bike. Since Kameshwar had the tickets, I did not have to do anything else but wait for the train. I went back to Bijon's place (incidentally, I also met some of my K classmates there at Bijon's home when I reached Chennai, all Calcutta Bongs, going a day earlier by the same train by which I travelled yesterday) and had a good long bath before going to the station to meet my new friends for the next two years.

All of them were there except one, with their luggage all loaded. Vikram was the first one I met and he was in deed the same as I had thought, a lean guy with a good sense of humour and a somewhat funny Hindi accent (perhaps because he has stayed in Chennai throughout his life even though he is a Rajasthani). Kameshwar was next and he turned out to be diametrically opposite to what I had guessed. Instead of a tall guy with a serious expression on his face, he turned out to be a rather short, chubby and sweet guy with a pleasant disposition, the most likeable of the lot. His mother was sweet, too...she gave chocolates to all of us :-)

I had already met Niranjan in the IIMK fresher alumni meet and as usual, he was a pack of energy, chatting at a speed faster than my comprehension at times. Rahul was again an exact image of my thoughts, a serious enough guy with a smiling face, the typical Infoscion look. The journey was cool and short with all of us chatting for some time, throwing open our horoscopes, as Kameshwar said, and later going to bed for a comfortable (but jittery, for me) sleep.

Kozhikode (in Hindi) or Calicut (in English) turned out to be a pretty small station (definitely bigger, however, than the other stations of Kerala that we encountered on the way) and the Parcel Office was even smaller and more so, slower. It took the porters almost one hour to unload my bike and get it ready for release. I seriously wondered (and not for the first time) about the hardiness of my bike after seeing the kind of stuffing that the lugage van and as a result, my bike had to endure. With some two more bikes proudly occupying the supine position over my bike and some dozens of cartons hiding any signs of my bike from sight, I almost got confused if this was the luggage van that I had got my bike loaded into.

Some seven eight seniors (God bless them) were at the station with a Volvo (or Valvo as they liked to call it) bus. After waiting for the Mangala express coming from Delhi (which gave me ample time to get my bike released), we were ready to go. The institute is some fifteen kilometers from the station and the highlight of the journey were the numerous supermarkets with bakeries. I don't know if it is the norm in Kerala but all the supermarkets in Calicut did have bakeries with them.

Journey from the IIMK main gate to the hostels was fascinating and for me, who has not been much among the hills, specially so. I have enjoyed the oceans and the plains a lot but the hills and trees are almost a first for me. The campus is in deed very good and beautiful and the hostels are even better. With brand new rooms pleasantly reeking (???) of the smell of plastic paint, the next year at IIMK promises to be auspicious.

I met a lot of my batchmates today and with names flowing across like Tabu's hair in the Siberian winds (wow, what an analogy!!!), I am not sure how many I am actually going to remember. I haven't met many seniors yet but I guess, we will have some meetings and not before long. Another thing that I am sure of is that there is going to be a lot of masala for my blog out here, considering so many people in the college (of both years), their differing characters, and my undying hobby of character sketching.

For the past few days, I had been thinking of organizing an outing in Patna. Nani has been feeling so lonely ever since Nana left and she just used to sit idle, staring into the darkness. It was very important that she have a change in her daily routine. Mananmama has got a new car and a trip for Nani in the car was also due. So it was that yesterday, we decided to go to the local Zoo for a picnic trip. Rita Mausi was here from Muzaffarpur and Mausi was already here in Patna. It was decided to have two trips by the car to transport all twelve people to the zoo.

To add to the spice, the pump at home was burnt out. Water had to be stored into drums and buckets because the mechanic had given Monday evening as the probable time of fixing up the motor and pump. Mananmama decided to have a full bath at Mausi's place in Rajiv Nagar. Since we also had to pick them up for the trip, I, Mananmama and Shanu left for Mausi's place with all our clothes for the first phase of the trip. How little we knew that this phase was all we could have hoped for. The rain gods unleashed their fury as soon as we were all ready to depart with Mausi's family for the Zoo.

After some hour-long deliberations on what to do and a score of telephone calls later, it was decided to have the picnic in Mausi's home. Mananmama went back to pick up everyone else, including Nani. I agreed, though with a heavy heart (because of the plans getting cancelled), because it would anyway have turned out to be a good outing for Nani, especially since she would be able to meet up her favorite daughter. Pappumama, as expected did not turn up. I always knew that unless the plan to the zoo materialized, he will not come. That was another of the reasons for my being upset by the change of plans.

Everything turned out to be good in the end as we did have a nice time. The lunch was good and full of fun and some good laughter all around. The most satisfying part was that Nani was having a good time and that's what finally mattered to me.

Chatting away with some friends in the night (thanks to the twelve hour internet pack that I had bought yesterday), I could not help but philosophize a bit about life. Here was Nani, all alone and full of life, slowly losing recognition of all those she held dearest to her through out her life. There, just a few days back when I was in Varanasi, was Bharat Bhaiya's new born baby daughter, who is fast busy gaining recognition of all those who are going to be close to her. So much is at stake for one while the other already has her plate full. The difference, however, is negligible. For an outsider like me, who is not in constant touch with either of them, what is important is not to let their attention wander into loneliness...keep them occupied...the methods differ but the objectives don't. Both of them are fragile as fragile can be. Both of them have to be pampered and cared for. Above all, both of them are so…so very dear to me...

Farhaan Akhtar must have had some sort of insecurity when he started to make Lakshya. If he did want to make a war movie, there was absolutely no reason to disguise the real content of the movie in this way. Lakshya, in the end, is nothing else but a well-disguised and well-presented war movie. The movie does talk about the frustrations, ideology and final salvation of an individual but the backdrop is beautifully crafted as the Kargil war between Indian soldiers and Pakistani mercenaries-cum-soldiers.

Hrithik Roshan is Karan Shergill, who wanders around in his laid-back style and weird yet suitable hairstyle and is reminded, more often than digestible, by his girlfriend that he does not have any 'lakshya' in his life. The girl friend is Preity Zinta, who plays the role of the journalist Romilla Dutta. She does look good in her new hairstyle and some exceedingly well-chosen outfits that suit not only her personality but also the kind of role that she plays. The movie begins in the present with Hrithik having just joined the regiment headed by Colonel Sunil Damle, played to perfection and yet wastefully by Amitabh Bachchan. In fact, any other actor could have played the character of Sunil Damle and Amitabh was not really required for the role. If at all Farhaan wanted to effectively use the services of an actor of Amitabh's caliber, he should have chosen a meatier role for him and could have actually shown him to have some real influence on Lieutenant Karan Shergill finding his 'lakshya' (the aim of his life).

As it turns out in the flashback, Karan was a laid back person studying in Delhi and having absolutely no idea as to what he wanted to do with his life and career. Boman Irani, who is insipid in his small role, plays the well-enacted character of his father. It probably is a tribute to his astonishingly good comic performances in his last two movies that a relatively serious role in this movie, albeit small, may not be appreciated. Karan is in love with his classmate Romilla who has plans to follow in her father's footsteps and take up journalism as her career. Romilla is the steadying influence in Karan's life and she encourages him to take his first decision when he decides to go for an army career. When Karan comes back from the Military Academy days later because of the strict regimen there, Romilla greets him with disdain and literally tells him to either be a man and stick to his guns or beat it.

Karan re-joins the IMA, becomes a competent army officer and is posted to Kargil sector. He comes back home, vindicated for the cruel (tsk...tsk) remarks of his girl friend. He even takes revenge in a scene where he calls up Romilla and when she wants to meet up, tells her that since she decided not to meet, he will be the one to decide when to meet....ridiculous, what?

Anyways, he is called back from his vacations when the war starts and that is when the movie really picks up the pace. With Romilla too joining the war scene as the reporter (remember she wanted to be a journalist) covering the war for her news channel, the story moves into top gear. The war scenes are well enacted and directed. Instead of wasting the footage trying to do justice to all the big names in the movie (as was the case with earlier war movies like Border and LOC), the war is shown with Karan as the central character and it does make the necessary difference. Somehow, the viewer is able to identify netter with the theme and the individual frustrations and adrenaline rush of the soldier. Hrithik Roshan does a fine job with some well brought out emotions at the correct places. He subtly manages the change from the laid back Karan to the extremely disciplined and determined Lieutinant Karan Shergill. The change in hairstyle and the clothes are definitely helpful but he also seems to have grown as an actor since Koi Mil Gaya. Preity Zinta is good in her role and does look like a journalist. She has avoided the temptation to look glamorous and has instead gone for a look and acting style that suits the character of Romilla Dutta, the journalist, to the tee. Amitabh Bachchan and Om Puri are excellent, as usual, but utterly wasted. Having watched the movie and the utter lack of space that Amitabh had, I seriously failed to understand the hullabaloo over the casting of this movie and Farhaan's said disputes with Amitabh.

Farhaan Akhtar has done a good job if he wanted to make a sincere war movie that is shown from the perspective of the current generation whose members are widely believed to have no aim in life and even if they do have some aim, those aims are frivolous according to many. He has succeeded in making the viewer empathize with Hrithik's character and finally rise to a crescendo with Karan Shergill realizing that the aim of his life is to fight for his country's honor and his actually achieving this aim by winning an army post from the Pakistanis in the Kargil war.

The music and songs are good and do not look out of place in the flashback portion despite the 'Main aisa kyun hoon' song actually coming out of nowhere. The songs in the second half, although a part of the story and supplementing the mood, somehow seem to be an extra. The background music is unexpectedly quiet for a war movie but does set the mood as and when required. Also, since most of the movie is shown from an individual's perspective, the silences and the tastily done background score suitably reflect the pensive atmosphere in the second half.

To summarize, if you want to watch the movie because it might give you a taste of Dil Chahta Hai, please stay at home. If you want to watch the movie as the second of the three June releases of Amitabh Bachchan, please stay at home. If you want to watch a movie that entertains you without requiring you to put the slightest stress on your mind (Main Hoon Na, anyone???), please stay at home. If you want to watch a sincere, well crafted, in its own genre movie that entertains you as much as it makes you think, you have your Lakshya.